


A Quiet Bet

by mssrj_335



Series: Jacket 2.0 [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Again lol, Ah yes the trope of tropes, Angry Sex, Banter, Bets & Wagers, Bickering, Bottom Finn (Star Wars), Challenge Sex more like, Closet Sex, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Filthy, I'm practicing, Inappropriate Humor, LMAO, M/M, Mouthy Bottom Finn, No Plots Only Thots, No shame, POV Poe Dameron, PWP, Poe Dameron's Mouth is a Gift, Poe Dameron's mouth needs a censor bar, Pre-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Semi-Public Sex, Top Poe Dameron, Trapped In A Closet, but not really, look we're here for a good time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:47:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28425735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335
Summary: “Alright bet, asshole. I definitely could. You’re the one who got me started on all this talking shit anyway.”“Talking shit is right. Don’t let your mouth make promises your ass can’t deliver.”--Poe and Finn fuck in a closet. That's it. That's the story.Open prompt for Krampus Kinkathon 2020
Relationships: Finn/Poe Dameron, Finnpoe, Poe Dameron/Finn, Stormpilot - Relationship
Series: Jacket 2.0 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1845370
Comments: 24
Kudos: 67
Collections: Krampus Kink-a-thon





	A Quiet Bet

They’re in the middle of a—well, Poe would call it a debate; argument, really—when a familiar sound pricks his ears. He holds up a finger.

“You need to shut your mouth.”

Finn throws up his hands, gesturing with that chip on his shoulder. “Oh, so whenever _I’m_ upset, I have to shut my mouth, but when _you’re_ pissed—”

“No, would you—just, shh! Someone’s coming!”

Without thinking at all, Poe yanks Finn by his shirtfront into the nearest hidden space. Which just happens to be a supply closet. Of kriffing course.

He keeps an eye on the crack of the door but Finn crowds up close behind him. Stupidly, he wishes they were in _any_ other situation because damn if it isn’t nice to feel Finn so close after another near scrape.

“Why are we in here? Who is it?”

“We’re not supposed to _be_ in this room, _that’s_ why we’re in here,” he hisses. “So shut up.”

“Hey, you picked the place for an argument.”

Poe leans back—unfortunately, right into Finn’s hips—and drags a hand down his face. “Unbelievable.”

“No, seriously, who is it that we can’t just say hello to?”

Poe smacks at him frantically. “Shut up. It’s Pava.”

Finn snorts but keeps his voice low. “Well, let’s just go out there.”

“No, blast it. If we do, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have dragged me in here in the first place.”

Oh, perfect. Poe rounds on him, throwing a finger in his face and whisper-shouting. “Maybe _you_ shouldn’t have shot your mouth off in the debriefing. We’re fucked for that, thank you very much. Lost your jacket _again_. Leia’ll never let us go on missions together after this.”

Finn rolls his eyes as Poe turns back to the door. “Me?! What about you? You’re the one who—”

Oh no. Pava cocks her head, obviously listening. They’re too loud. Shit, shit shit shit—

“Shut _up_.”

In a flash, Poe locks the door and springs back. Claps a hand over Finn’s mouth as his eyes go wide, shoves him back to the furthest corner of the closet. The commander’s breath comes a little faster, blowing hard out his nose over Poe’s hand as he crowds in close. Finn wriggles. Poe throws an arm over his chest and a knee between his thighs and his whole body goes stiff. If he doesn’t hold the bastard in place, Finn’ll give them away. Maybe out of spite at this point. The thought of it makes his blood run a little hotter; he tries not to dwell on it. As it is, he’s facing the back of the closet so he can’t watch the door. But he hears the handle jiggle and Finn’s eyes get wider. Poe glances at him. Catches his gaze and raises a finger to his lips. For a long moment, there’s only the sound of their breath in the tiny space. Then, Poe sighs in relief as Pava’s footsteps recede. He drops his hand from Finn’s mouth—

And immediately notices something new.

“Is—is that your dick?”

Finn rolls his eyes again, head falling back against the closet. “Come on, you’ve got me pinned to a wall and a hand over my mouth. Excuse me for getting a little excited.”

“Gods, you’re insufferable,” Poe grumbles, ignoring the answering heat in his gut and peeking out again through the crack in the door. “I bet you couldn’t stay quiet for more than five minutes.”

“Alright bet, asshole. I definitely could. _You’re_ the one who got me started on all this talking shit anyway.”

“Talking shit is right. Don’t let your mouth make promises your ass can’t deliver.”

He expects Finn to argue. Argue and protest and fuss at him for hours. Just…not exactly like this. Finn’s capable hands yank him away from the door and right into a glare.

“Take it outta my ass, I fuckin’ dare you.”

Poe blinks. “….What?”

“I dare you to fuck me.” Finn pokes at his chest. “Right here—” Oh, stars. “—right now.” Poe bites his lip and Finn barrels on. “I bet anything I won’t make a sound, just to prove you kriffing wrong.”

Poe blanches. Surely not _no_ sound. “What about—”

“Yes, that includes moaning, groaning, all the things you like.”

Poe blinks fast a few times, just trying to process. But most of his blood’s already sinking to his dick and sue him, it’s hard to think rationally. “What about gasping?”

“Gasping is allowed because I have to breathe, rocketjock.”

“…….I’m not sure if I wanna fuck you that quiet,” Poe pouts. All Finn’s noises get him strung higher than just sex itself. It’d almost be a shame to fuck him without the soundtrack.

“I spent all that time getting you to talk.”

And isn’t that the truth. It took ages to get Finn to make a sound at all. All the ‘trooper training had his head fixed but good. Just took several—and by several, it was more like dozens—of tries and coaxing and reassuring that no, they won’t get in trouble. And yes, Poe liked it. Just thinking about Finn running his mouth all fucked out and desperate makes Poe’s skin feel tight. Well, until the commander says,

“You just don’t want to follow through because you know I can damn well do it.”

“Liar! You like makin’ noise so much these days you wouldn’t last!”

“So’s that mean you’re taking the bet?” Finn challenges, pushing into Poe’s space. “Or do you concede the point?”

Poe considers, looking him up and down. Lingering on the tented fabric of Finn’s trousers. Fuck it all, it might be worth it. “What do I get if I win?”

“If I make so much as a peep, you get to fuck me anywhere you want and I’ll be as loud as you want.”

Poe immediately blushes, spitting and sputtering, “Why that?? Can’t I pick the prize? Why you gotta pick that?”

Finn crosses his arms. “You tellin’ me you’d pick something different?”

Silence.

“I knew it. You fuckin’ exhibitionist.”

Poe rolls his eyes so hard his head follows, shaking off the embarrassment that burns in the best way. “What happens if I lose?”

“You buy me a new jacket.”

“Seems a little unfair—”

“ _And_ you let me fuck you in the _Falcon_ cockpit.”

Oh. Poe’s trousers immediately feel tighter at _that_. Finn knows, damn him, he _knows_ Poe’s wanted to do that for ages. It’s the kriffing _Millennium Falcon_. It’s like the holy land of illicit rendezvous for any pilot.

“Well shit, with those stakes, how the hell’m I losin’?”

Finn just raises an eyebrow. “You have to try to fly the _Falcon_ at the same time.”

“Oh shit.”

Well, that’s a damn challenge if he’s ever heard it.

“Uh huh,” Finn clucks, leaning close to his face. “That’s what I thought. Still wanna take the bet? Or is your mouth making promises your ass can’t keep?”

Poe gapes.

Shit.

And his only answer his to shove his tongue in Finn’s mouth. Stars, maybe _that_ will shut him up. Poe backs him up, inordinately satisfied when Finn’s shoulders hit the wall again and it pushes the air out of him. The commander’s hands scrabble at his belt. Impatient, probably still a little pissed. But the gleam in his eye tells Poe all he needs. His hands are halfway through the buckle when Poe decides he’s had about enough of that.

“You—” He grabs both of Finn’s wrists, smacks them back above his head to make his point. “—are such a pain in my ass, you know that?”

Finn fights his grip but doesn’t groan like he usually would. Damn, Poe misses it already. Instead, Finn pushes forward just enough to bite the shit out of Poe’s lip and twist their tongues together again.

“Always losing kriffin’ clothes.” Poe rips away for a gasping breath. “Being brave and stupid as shit.”

Finn finally gets the better of him, breaking out of Poe’s hands and shoving him _hard_ against the door. So hard it rattles on its hinges. Poe hopes to high stars that no one is on the other side—wait, no maybe he does. There’s not enough blood in his brain to decide. Shit, Finn’s hands are back on his belt, pulling it free with a snap. He just manages to get Finn’s trousers open, but the commander’s definitely faster. One second, Poe’s pants are on and the next, they’re down somewhere around his thighs. Before he can even think, Finn’s hot velvety mouth engulfs his cock with a singular sort of purpose and all Poe can do is groan. It’s perfect—Finn’s fucking mouth is _always_ perfect. But one vivid thought penetrates the haze of lust in his brain: If Finn sucks him off, he’ll win the bet. There’s no way Poe’ll get hard enough in time to keep Finn locked in the closet and fuck him for real. Bastard will skip right out. Leave Poe with his trousers around his ankles. Probably wink and blow him a kiss and leave the kriffing door wide open for everyone to see the mess he made.

And that just won’t stand.

With all the effort he can muster, Poe pulls away from the perfect heat and pressure of Finn’s mouth. “I’m on to your game, get up.” He looks down and finds the most affronted expression on Finn’s face and almost laughs. “On your feet, Commander. That’s an order.”

Finn’s eyes get about the size of saucers. That might make his dick ache; Poe decides to not to help him up, the bastard. Doing a marvelous job of actually shutting up, Finn just cocks his head and stares. Lips swollen and spit-slick. Damn, Poe almost regrets changing the course. Maybe later. When he wins. He’ll watch those lips circle round his cock and hear all the noises he’s been missing. _It’ll be worth it_ , he tells himself, his dick specifically, who’s already disagreeing with him. _It’ll be worth it!_ He pulls his trousers back up to his hips at least, but doesn’t bother tucking himself away. Something about the tight space, being mostly clothed with only his cock out makes him that much harder.

“The bet was for me to fuck you. You can’t cheat your way outta this one, hotshot. Your rules,” Poe growls, yanking Finn’s shirt from his trousers and mouthing down the column of his neck, “so don’t make a promise you can’t deliver.”

Finn reels back, opens his mouth like he’s going to retort. Oh gods, is he really going to lose that fast? But half a second’s thought makes his teeth clack shut. Instead of answering out loud, he opts to scan the shelves around them. He snags a bottle off the wall, tosses it at Poe, raises an eyebrow in silent challenge.

Bacta?

“Huh. That’ll work.”

Now the question is how to win.

“You wanna get real freaky, turn this into roleplay?” Poe waggles his eyebrows. “We could do interrogation, because I promise you’re gonna talk.”

Finn chokes on a laugh, slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle it. And that pretty smile, that challenging amused grin tingles right down to Poe’s bones. And his bone. Stars, even when he’s pissy he’s still gorgeous.

So, he doesn’t waste a moment more.

Never let it be said that Poe Dameron isn’t dextrous. A lifetime of flying’s made his hands smart. With one, he yanks Finn in by the back of his neck, tongue-fucking his mouth lazy, sloppy. A tease. The other repays Finn’s favor, shoves his trousers over the curve of his ass and out of the way. Until they get stuck around the meat of his thighs. Damn those thighs. Almost would rather have them around his face. Poe groans. _Focus, Dameron, focus._ He shoves him back just because he can, works the fabric down past Finn’s knees. _Finally_. A clumsy flip—he pushes Finn against the wall, almost into it. The only thing keeping Finn from smashing face-first into it is the fact that he’s pushing back almost as hard as Poe’s pushing forward. Stubborn ass. Poe bites his shoulder. Kicks his legs apart and lubes a finger. He preps as fast as he can. As good as he can. Fingers teasing and pointed in turn. But Finn’s still stubbornly quiet, only the sound of his breath and none of those noises Poe took so long to pull out of him.

But at the first thrust—oh, that’s different. Poe slicks his cock, eases in with one slow draw, still careful even if he’s impatient as hell. And Finn, _stars at night_ , Finn’s arms shake where they hold him up. His palms slide down the wall, head hanging heavy as his cock. Breath caught in his throat. He’s not quite horizontal but he’s definitely lower. With the way he looks—shirt rucked up barely over the small of his back, thighs wide, shaking already, bent and bowed and looking over his shoulder with that familiar demanding eyebrow— _son of a Sith harlot_ , Poe just about loses it.

“Kriffin’ hell, how are you _always_ so good?”

He means it—Finn’s ass is a gift from the Universe—but the man in question just scoffs. Lets out a long breath and shoves back on Poe’s dick in a way that clearly says _Come on flyboy, show me what you got_.

Well, who is Poe to disappoint?

He starts out nice and slow, because going too fast will fuck him over in the end. Plus, it’s nice to watch Finn squirm. The notable lack of mess out of Finn’s mouth leaves him wanting though. Lets his mind wander too far. The commander likes to talk these days, spill out all his ideas, all his fantasies and strategies just as much as he likes to hear Poe’s when their positions are flipped. It might’ve taken some time but those nights when Poe can get him to babble on, scream like a stuck mynock? Oh, those are the _best_. He shakes his head to clear the thoughts, _focus_ like he’s supposed to—then an idea hits him. And he’s glad Finn’s facing away so he can’t see the devious smile sneaking on Poe’s face.

Maybe he can share that line of thought and that’ll put Finn right over the edge. That’s not cheating, is it? Ok, maybe it is. But Poe _really_ wants to win here. It’s worked before. Why not now?

He keeps his pace even and almost casually says, “You know, I almost wanna lose. Get in the _Falcon_ , hop on top and ride you right into lightspeed.”

Finn snorts, but it twists to a gasp when Poe grips his hips and thrusts harder. Not any faster. Just at a firm, teasing clip. There’s frustration tight in the line of Finn’s back, in the quiet hiss of air between his teeth, but too damn bad—that’s what he gets for making another damn bet.

“On the other hand, I’d _really_ like to win. Get you out in public behind my X-wing, right on the kriffing tarmac.”

High holy entropy, _that_ brings out Finn’s competitive streak. He might not be able to talk but fuck if he still can’t punish. He clenches—hard. Poe’s knees almost buckle. He loses his grasp, most of his rhythm.

“ _Stars_ , Finn—you fuckin’ cheat.” He drives deep, punishing in return, punching the breath right out of Finn’s gut. “I’m gonna make such a scene outta you, eat you alive. Swallow you, or fuck you ’til I drip down your thighs.”

Finn shoves his ass back to control the pace. None of that. Poe’s not having that. He yanks Finn back on his dick, holds him still. And as much as Finn might talk a big game, he’s as desperate for it as Poe is at this point. His head drops—defeat—and Poe starts again. Nice and slow. Listening for that tell-tale hitch in his breath.

“But if I lose, _fuck me_. On the console in front of everyone? Face in the damn dials?” There it is. Finn’s grip tightens on nothing, scraping the wall, air caught tight in his throat. “Tell you where to put it, let you talk all your shit.”

The commander really, _really_ seems to like that idea.

“Bite your lip while you ride my dick in the briefing room.”

Finn unconsciously mimics the act and Poe groans. Screw keeping it down, whoever’s out there can hear them, he’s too far gone to care.

“Give you a hard choke, deep stroke, fuck you all the way to your teeth.”

The noise he gets is mostly a gasp, almost a groan. _Damn it, so close_. Faster then.

“You like that, don’t you?” Finn nods, twists bouncing at Poe’s pace. “You wanna taste it? Gag on my cock, pretty boy?”

Finn might not talk yet, but he’s nodding frantically enough to make Poe’s ego ballon like a supernova.

“I’ll take you to the armory and leave the door wide fuckin’ open. Maybe get on my knees for you, give you something to believe in. Make you bust right down the back of my throat.”

Finn’s fully gasping on every thrust. Just to make it worse, Poe picks up speed. Desperate for something. _Anything._ He needs some damn feedback and at this point he’ll do anything to get it. So he wraps an arm around Finn’s chest. Yanks him upright and locks one of Finn’s arms above his head in a move the commander actually taught him sparring. If Poe weren’t balls deep and mostly holding him up, Finn could get out of it, no problem. But as it is, Finn fists his free hand and shoves it in his mouth. Now that might be one way to stifle the noises but Poe crows victorious on the inside. It’s so close. He tongues the shell of Finn’s ear, his rhythm almost wavering when one little noise slips in Finn’s chest. Damn it all, Poe can’t hear it but he sure as shit could feel it. If it were just a tiny bit more, he would’ve won. Still Finn holds fast. Unyielding. And for some reason, that’s just unbelievably hot.

“C’mon, you’re almost there. Tell me. Talk to me. Whose dick is it, huh?” He’s not begging. Definitely not. “Whose?”

Silence. Oh gods, that’s the worst. Well, still stilted breath. The slap of skin on skin and fabric rustling and gasps. But Finn? Making good on his damn threat. Poe’s not gonna last like this. He really is going to lose.

“Say it’s yours. Say it’s mine. Say _something_.” Finn shakes his head, throws it back on Poe’s shoulder. Poe can barely see him bite his lip but it jolts in his cock. “Just say my name, I’ll give you what you want.”

Nothing. Poe could swear he hears Finn’s teeth grind though, and that’s _something_. He’s not sure who’s more desperate: Finn, or him.

“All right, fine.” Time to play dirty. “Stubborn ass.” Poe reaches down, hand still sticky with bacta. Wraps his fingers around Finn’s length and he absolutely thrashes. “How ‘bout a new deal?”

Finn shakes his head again so Poe starts jerking his dick hard and slow. “You haven’t even heard the deal yet.” Keeps the pressure just where he knows it’ll drive Finn wild. And it works; the commander bucks in his hand. “Come on, be reasonable. How long you want this torture to go?”

He’s definitely talking shit now. There’s no way he’ll last more than a few minutes but Finn seems too far gone to compute. _Stars and galaxies_ , or maybe not. When Finn grits his teeth and braces, clenches hard again like he’s heard the thought, Poe almost comes on the spot.

“Alright, alright,” he wheezes. “New deal. Talk, you still win.” Gods, it’s hard to speak at this pace. At all really. “You fuck me in the _Falcon_.” His dick twitches. “And I still fuck you out by my ship.” It has to stay. “I never got to smear you all over _Black One_ , the new one’s a must.” Finn gasps bright and loud. “Both. Both is good, right? Deal?”

At last, “Both is good.”

Victory!! “Oh my gods, **_finally_**!” Poe buries his face between Finn’s shoulder blades. “Talk. Do it.”

“Poe, _stars alive_ , no one does better than you.” Poe’s hips stutter. Finn groans, loud and clear. “No one could fuck me like you. Kriff, that’s—ngh _perfect_. Harder, please please please. Ah! Poe—” Finn chokes. He obliges. Sets his teeth in Finn’s shirt, almost in his skin. “We’re doin’ all those things, I’m gonna fuck you all over this base.” Heat and pressure at the base of his spine already spilling out everywhere. Each of Finn’s words punctuate with his thrusts. “I—can’t—Poe—fuck—me— _please—_ ”

Kriff, Poe knows what comes next. Finn really _will_ scream. Maybe loud and deep. Or high, keening. It’s always a surprise and it pulls Poe taut as a bowcaster. Finn reaches back with one hand, yanks Poe’s hair. Covers the hand on his cock with his own and oh, gods that’s it. Poe’s balls draw tight, heat scorching his skin. He slaps a hand over Finn’s mouth, pulls him back, drives once—twice—one last, deep and Finn’s shout is barely muffled behind his fingers. He comes taut, shaking, spilling over Poe’s hand, biting into his palm, and Poe follows him right over.

It takes a few minutes of dizzy comedown. Of jelly legs and panting and petting to soft praise for Poe to get his wits back.

“You’re too much, you know that?” Finn puffs. “Changing the rules halfway through.”

“Best skill to have, wouldn’t you say?” He kisses the corner of Finn’s mouth. “Flexibility?”

Finn scoffs.

“Thinking under pressure?” he tries.

Then Finn snickers and Poe noses at the line of his jaw, feeling all toasty and sticky, inside and out.

“Quick decisions, flyboy. Apparently having your head in your cockpit does you some good.”

“I’ll take it.”

He smiles at Finn like a dope. Kisses all over his face and neck as he tucks himself away. Finn hisses when Poe pulls his clothes back on. There’s not really anything to clean up with though; he smears Finn’s release into the floor, wipes the rest on his khakis, and pretends no one will notice it. Besides, he has every intention of taking the commander back to his bunk for the next round. In fact, he’s just about to ask when—

“Poe Dameron!” There’s pounding on the door. “Get your ass out of there!”

Poe’s jaw drops. Finn’s eyes go wide. For a second, all they can do is stare at each other. Then Poe clears his throat, “Yes, General!” but his voice still comes out a squeak.

Leia sounds so, so pissed. “And bring Finn with you!”

“We’re so fucked,” Finn whispers.

‘Yeah, maybe.” Poe closes his eyes, nodding, but he can’t help smiling.

He turns for the door. Finn catches his arm, smacks him with a quick, filthy kiss that leaves Poe more breathless than before. _Well, that’s just not fair_.

“Worth it though,” Finn winks. “Time for everyone to see the mess, I guess.”

Poe chokes on a laugh. “Oh yeah, that’ll teach ‘em.”

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to TheCarrot for looking over parts of this one and for the feedback 
> 
> Soooooooo  
> What’d you think? 😂
> 
> Edit: congrats to god_hates_tyler for FINALLY catching that WAP use. Yes, you poor bastards, you DID just read Poe Dameron using some of the lyrics to WAP as dirty talk 😜👌


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